


Perpetual

by sageness



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Birthday, Canon - TV, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-26
Updated: 2005-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageness/pseuds/sageness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John hates surprises. No, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perpetual

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to marag and tx_tart, who helped with the early version, and kasandaro, who helped with the final (much longer) draft.

Rodney tested the fuel cell one last time, rechecked the tension on the internal gears, and adhered four little rubber feet to the base so it wouldn't skid. Perfect, he thought, if he did say so himself.

A moment later, everything was packed up and ready. He used the Atlantean computer system to check Colonel Sheppard's location, as well as to make sure Zelenka was still up in the main lab keeping the trained monkeys in line, and then he carefully balanced his two, precious white cardboard boxes in his arms and went.

* * *

John didn't get back from the Athosian settlement until nearly three hours after he was due. He stumbled out of the jumper bay tired, grumpy, and in serious need of a shower. They'd spent the day hauling crates of raw produce and freshly slaughtered animals, which was something he could have pawned off onto one of the enlisted men, especially today, but it was his turn in the rotation. Besides, they all had to eat, and if he gave himself the day off, he ran the risk of someone noticing the date.

When he got to his quarters, he went straight to the shower, stripping out of his grimy uniform as he went. The shower felt like heaven, and after twenty minutes under the pounding hot water, he almost felt human again.

He was pulling on his shorts and pondering a covert trip down to the mess hall when he saw it…and nearly fell over.

Leaning against the base, there was a small white index card with two words on it: HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

It wasn't signed, but even if he hadn't recognized the scrawl, or the abused red dry erase marker, he knew who it was from. No one else in Atlantis would have done this. Hell, no one else anywhere would.

John thumbed the little steel lever, and the wheel began to turn with a low hum. Round and around with smooth, steady motion. The little metal lift chairs were carefully soldered together and swinging gently with the rotation of the wheel. It was…perfect.

He sat down at his desk, fully engrossed in the arc and plunge of the wheel. After a while, he noticed an open, CPU-sized box of egg-crate foam sitting on the floor a few feet away, and laying on the foam was a smallish white box that had previously contained a spare hard drive. He flipped up the tabs and found two dozen Athosian-made wood and cloth dolls. They fit perfectly, two by two, to fill the little Ferris wheel.

John settled them each in with care and watched them go round, the motor a dull, comforting hum.

The wheel itself was a little more than a foot in diameter; he had no idea what it had once been attached to.

More time passed. John kept rearranging the brightly-colored figures. They were about the size of the action figures he'd grown up with, and lacked a lot of detail, although some of them bore more than passing resemblance to certain Atlantis personnel, himself included, right down to the thigh holster. There was also a little pointy-nosed guy in blue and black with a crystal-flake scanner affixed to his vest. A woman with painted fighting sticks, clearly meant to be Teyla. A dark-haired guy in a tiny buckskin shirt and leather chaps. Another guy in blue with a little black medic's case. A woman in red and black holding a chip painted to resemble a datapad. Their arms and legs moved only at the shoulder and hip, just like his old GI Joes, but they fit comfortably, sliding easily under the chairs' restraining bars.

He didn't hear the door open. John looked up to see Rodney standing beside him with a tray.

"Hey, sorry to barge in on…um, hi. I brought you a sandwich. I brought us both sandwiches, actually, since no one had seen you and I figured you were either hiding from ridiculous surprise parties or you'd gotten…distracted."

John blinked and looked at his watch. Okay, he'd somehow lost more than an hour sitting here playing with his new toy. "Rodney," he started. Then he stood up.

"Here," Rodney said, and put the tray down on John's dresser. "So, I know you hate the b-word, but happy birthday, many happy returns, so on and so forth." He waved a hand airily. "Did you take it apart yet? No, of course you didn't, otherwise…see, it runs on a low-voltage fuel cell that should keep it running for the next fifty to seventy-five years. You know the ones from that planet…MX8-43L, maybe? The one with the old university athletics fields turned into farmland? Fascinating technology there, I'm looking forward to the next time we can go back…"

Rodney was babbling and darting glances from his own feet to the Ferris wheel, to John's face, and back. John looked down and stifled a laugh as he realized he was still wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt. Rodney was launching into a discourse on the laws of perpetual motion.

Crossing to his tiny closet for a pair of pants, John cleared his throat and said, "You've been working on this for a long time, haven't you?"

"Well, actually it's been fairly good stress relief," Rodney called over his shoulder as he petted the wheel, "finding all the pieces, putting them together, finding a way to keep the motor from overheating, and so forth. I think I had a dozen people convinced it was a top-secret project that would destroy the city in nanoseconds, which…well, you might be surprised how many people want to know what an astrophysicist is doing looking for a pair of tin snips."

"I can imagine," John said, wearing pants again.

Rodney shot him a lopsided smile like he was sharing a secret. "Actually, it was really kind of fun. I used to build models all the time as a child, I mean, before the atomic bomb. It's what got me interested in physics in the first place…how things work, how to make them do the impossible."

John nodded. That was it exactly. "Trajectory and force. It's why I fell in love with trig on the first day of class."

Rodney raised a curious eyebrow and John half-shrugged and made a face.

"Not anywhere near as cool as wormhole physics—" Rodney started.

"But way more reliable," John said, standing at his desk again and tracing the edge of the wheel with a finger. Smooth, shiny chrome rolled on, heedless of the pressure.

"There is that," Rodney admitted.

John looked up from the wheel to Rodney's face. "Thank you. Really. I mean, you even got people for it," he said, petting one of the anonymous figures.

"It looked kind of, um, lonely without them."

"I, uh, yeah. I guess it did." He wasn't sure what to say to that, but he was noticing just how close Rodney was standing.

For a moment, it seemed like it was going to turn into an awkward silence. Then Rodney said, watching the wheel, "You put us together, I see."

John froze for a second as their little chair crested the top and rolled forward. He had. He hadn't even thought about it. After a second he said, "It seemed right."

"I agree," Rodney murmured back, looking down, and John looked down in time to realize that Rodney had been checking him out, and at least he wasn't standing there in his boxers anymore, but he still blushed a little.

Another long moment went by and the lump in John's throat wasn’t going away. He shook his head, trying to recover some erstwhile shred of cool, and managed a weak laugh. "I can't believe you made this for me. It's…thanks, seriously."

Rodney was smiling, but his hands seemed uncertain.

"How long did it take to build?" John asked, floundering for something to say, but also really curious about how long Rodney had been planning this.

"Huh? Oh, um, a while. There wasn't actually much free time to work on it, so off and on for three or four months, I guess?"

Months…wow. That meant…that meant a lot of things. He tried to repress the smile, but didn't really succeed. "Off and on?"

Rodney looked into John's eyes and breathed, "There was intention, but only limited opportunity. Very limited. Exceedingly."

John moved a half-step into Rodney's space. "I think it's perfect."

"You do?"

"I really, really do," John whispered against Rodney's face as he moved in, feeling Rodney's arms wrap around him, and Rodney was like a furnace, but his mouth was sweet and his kiss was slow and far more careful than John would have ever expected.

Rodney pulled away as the kiss edged toward something hotter, and John gazed at him. The light was glinting off Rodney's wet lips, off his blue eyes, like it was glinting off the metal of the Ferris wheel spinning before them. And he realized that Rodney had even brought dinner. After all this time, Rodney had put himself on the line with this.

Doubt was beginning to cloud Rodney's eyes, so John put his hand on Rodney's cheek and closed his own eyes, just feeling the sensation of stubble against his stroking thumb.

"John."

"Shhh…just let me feel for a minute."

Several seconds later, Rodney said in a cracked whisper, "Don't leave me hanging here, okay? Either you want this or you don't, and whichever you choose is fine, okay?—I'll cope—but you know it would be really, really good if you would just say something already."

John opened his eyes, a laugh on his lips. "Of course I want this, Rodney. I just don't know if I can keep myself from jumping you in public."

Rodney broke into a hungry smile. "I'm sure somehow you'll find a way. Seriously. If anyone can find a way, it's you. Say yes?"

"You made me a Ferris wheel," John said, as if it were that obvious, because it was.

He turned his head a little, watching the cars lift and roll on their tiny moorings. He looked back at Rodney, whose attention was focused on the wheel, too. Then his lips were on Rodney's face, nipping Rodney's ear, his neck, and Rodney's fingers were in his hair as they kissed, hot and hungry, and a little scared. It felt good, but it wasn't really one hundred percent. For once he wasn't even getting off on the rush of doing something illicit.

"Hey, you okay?" Rodney asked, pulling back. "We don't have to…"

"Um, just…give me a second."

"What's wrong?" Rodney was all eyes and his perpetual frown was the worry-frown, not a disappointment-frown, at least not yet.

John reached out and ran his fingers down Rodney's chest to his heart. It was beating fast. With his other hand, he touched Rodney's face again, and rubbed Rodney's lower lip with his thumb. Rodney opened his mouth and sucked on the pad of his thumb for a second before letting go.

He didn't know what Rodney was seeing on his face, but it had to be a lot. "We'll be careful," Rodney said. Then Rodney was sitting and scooting back on the narrow bed, pulling John down with him, and then they were kissing again, gently, with Rodney's hands roaming slowly over his clothes. John shut his eyes, breathing Rodney in, and weighed his options.

"Would it be easier for you," Rodney asked at last, "if we just had a quick screw and I walked away?"

John's eyes flashed. "I don't want that."

"Good," Rodney said. "I don't either."

John nodded. His options here sucked, but…he looked over at the Ferris wheel again and watched each gondola, with its pair of occupants, swing endlessly on in its own graceful arc. The hum of the motor was barely noticeable.

"So, tell me," he said, propping himself on his elbows and gazing down at Rodney, "can you really do discreet?"

Rodney smiled. "I think so, yeah."

"You _think_?"

Rodney thwapped John on the bicep and kissed him again. "I'll learn."

* * *

Rodney shifted over in the narrow bed as John crawled back in with the sandwiches and the purloined bag of chips Rodney had managed to liberate from the Daedalus' surprisingly copious junk food stores.

"Mmmmh, dinner," John said with a messy kiss.

A little later, Rodney licked a crumb off John's lower lip and sat back against the wall with the chips. He took one for himself and fed another to John. They were stale, but only a little.

"Hey, did you really mean it when you said fifty to seventy-five years?" John pointed over at the Ferris wheel, where the figures swung steadily up and over, down and back, over and over again.

"Give or take. Presuming you don't block off the heat-release or burn out the motor by constantly flipping it on and off."

John looked back at him, all tender eyes and weird hair. "I thought I'd just leave it on."

Rodney ate another chip and aimed for casual. "I know," he said, even though he could feel his ears turning pink.

"You knew I would." John brushed another kiss over his mouth.

Rodney cleared his throat and murmured. "You could say that I had certain hopes."

John kissed him again, harder. "Optimist."

Rodney pulled back and stared at John, momentarily aghast. Then John poked him in the ribs and they both collapsed in a gale of laughter.

 

  



End file.
